


Chase the Sun Away

by Omano



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Feels, M/M, Michael is not used to being cared for, Protective Lucifer, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4015441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omano/pseuds/Omano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being bonded to the archangel Michael when he is in the middle of planning a war isn't an easy thing to handle. Getting him to sleep is a new fight every night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chase the Sun Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justmariamay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmariamay/gifts).



> I suck at both titles and summaries, especially when I put this together in a still arguably coherent mindset. But please enjoy! :)

 

Lucifer pulled his robe tighter around his chest even though the temperature didn’t warrant it. The drawing room was at least twice as warm as the other parts of their quarters combined.

His eyes fell on his mate hunched over a table covered with maps and different rolls of accounts.

“Michael,” he called out softly.

For his part Michael flinched but didn’t raise his gaze.

“Michael, you need to get some sleep,” Lucifer tried again, now the edge of order seeping into his voice. Slowly, he stepped closer. “The maps won’t change during the night I can promise you that.”

The other stubbornly kept on staring ahead.

Lucifer’s frown deepened. “I swear I’ll knock you out if I have to, and drag you to the bedroom by your feet.”

That teased a scoff of laughter out of the other archangel’s chest. “I’m not that heavy,” he protested, his voice rough from long hours of unused he had spent leaning over atlantes and other long hours previously spent with shouting orders.

“But you’d deserve it. Stubborn you are. How am I supposed to take care of you?”

“You don’t have to—“

“I _do_. Now come on, let’s have some rest.”

Michael wanted to protest some more, but as soon as Lucifer took him by the hands he relented. The muscles in his arms melted from marble to flesh with each step they took away from the terrible responsibilities of war. By the time they entered the silky cool embrace of their bedroom he could even breathe.

Finally Lucifer could feel his heart beating a steady strong rhythm.

In intimate, awed silence he started peeling layer after layer of clothing, robes and shirt and chainmail from Michael’s frame until his hands could finally settle on the sharp cut of hipbones. They stood close, breaths mingling, faces only a thin inch apart, but their eyes just wouldn’t meet. Lucifer kept his averted gaze on an old scar he had left ages ago across the golden chest.

This new sense of closeness was still so foreign. Lucifer wondered if he would ever stop doubting this miracle. The idea just wouldn’t let him be that all those centuries he had spent sizzling in the center of a black hole would never allow him to enjoy trust and devotion ever again.

How was he supposed to look after Michael like this? Especially as he _wanted to_. Now that they were bonded and not just mated.

He quickly chased the disturbing thought away.

He let his robe slide from his shoulders, then threw it over the back of a chair. Even after such careless motion it fell in perfect plaits next to Michael’s carefully folded clothes. Grey gold, velvet black and pale blue in the soft moonlight.

In bed Lucifer settled against Michael’s back.

At first he had to breathe through the shock of heat that assaulted his senses where the other’s wings burnt beneath skin and muscle. It still took him a few minutes to get used to the feeling. Then he melted, molding his own body to his mate’s.

He ran his hand along Michael’s arm.

“You should relax,” he purred. “Close your eyes.”

“I’m fine, Lucifer. You just go to sleep.”

“It’s not really comfortable hugging a rock.”

“The bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

“Are you so insufferable just to annoy me?”

“What do you expect from me?! I’ve got a war to plan.”

“A war on two fronts. This is the craziest thing you’ve ever done.”

“It’s not my fault!” Michael snapped rolling onto his back to glare at Lucifer. “It’s not my fault I’ll have to fight on two fronts.”

“You declared it in the first place! You were so stubborn that you couldn’t wait until this stupid political strife settles.”

“I could have won this by now.” Michael hissed. With jerky movements he kicked the blanket off himself. His brows were shining with sweat. “If they allowed me to start the war when I first wanted! I could have secured our borders by now. I could do it now! If only I had my army, the munition, resources, _my sword_! If they didn’t take my sword, Lucifer…”

“I know, I know,” Lucifer fought to keep his voice even, his fingers steady as he brushed them along a flushed cheek. “You would line our borders with Leviathan heads.”

“You are mocking me,” Michael gasped.

“No. I just don’t want to boil next to you each time you start agonizing over your missing toothpick.”

Michael’s eyes rounded, his breath got caught in his throat and he flushed an even deeper shade of red down his chest.

Lucifer smiled and patted his cheek.

“Now breathe.”

The elder’s chest fell suddenly. For a couple times it rose and fell with the final puffs of anger panted out. Then sent one last hard look at Lucifer before he turned his back to him.

Lucifer didn’t even wait until Michael cooled down. He snuggled up to him, his arm slung over his waist.

“I swore I’d burn the entire Council for such treachery,” he whispered against the shell of the other’s ear. “I will lay their beating hearts at your feet and bring you back your sword, Michael. I swear.”

Michael squeezed his fingers across his stomach in acknowledgement.

Lucifer smiled. He nipped at the earlobe right under his nose, then started mouthing along the graceful neck, desperate and jealous to chase away memories of the sun’s kisses.

A content sigh shivered on Michael’s lips before he, once more, grew as still as the mountains.

“Lucifer,” he whispered weakly.

“I know,” the blond murmured, his lips brushing the peak of his mate’s shoulder. “I know, it’d be unfortunate if you started nesting right in the middle of war.”

Even though there was no proof if Michael actually _could_ start nesting, they both agreed it wasn’t time yet to find out.

“I’ve got you, remember?” Lucifer moved higher, hinting kisses up to Michael’s throat nuzzling at his own mark of claim. “And I always keep my oaths. Promise.”

He kept up the steady flow of kisses. Persistent enough to keep Michael’s mind away from his war planning, but light enough to be just a reassurance of support.

Lucifer counted his victory when Michael turned his head so that he could press a kiss to his soft mouth. When he pulled back the green eyes didn’t flutter open again. His breathing evened out, muscles grew slack and the deep shadows disappeared from his brows.

 Michael fell asleep.

 


End file.
